If she wants to dance and drink all night then thereâ€™s no one that can stop her.
Sheâ€™s going until the house lights come up or her stomach spills onto the floor.
This night is going to end when weâ€™re damn well ready for it to be over.
Worked all week long now the music is playing on our time.
We do what we do to get by, and then we need a release.

You get mixed up with the wrong guys.
You get messed up on the wrong drugs.
Sometimes the party takes you places that you didnâ€™t really plan on going.
When people see the track marks on her arms she knows what theyâ€™re thinking.
She keeps on working for that minimum,
as if a high school education offered any other options.
They donâ€™t know nothing about redemption.
They donâ€™t know nothing about recovery.
Some people just ain’t the type for marriage and family.

No mother ever dreams that her daughters going to grow up to be a junkie.
No mother ever dreams that her daughters going to grow up to sleep alone.

Sheâ€™s out of step with the style.
She donâ€™t know where the actions happening.
You know the downtown club scene ain’t nothing like it used to be.
You reach a point where thereâ€™s not a lie in the world
that you could use to make the boys believe your still in you twenties.
Sheâ€™s not waiting for them to come over and ask for the privilege.
She can still here that Rebel Yell just as loud as it was in 1983.
There ain’t no Johnny coming home to share a bed with her and she doesnâ€™t care.

No mother ever dreams that her daughters going to grow up to be a junkie.
No mother ever dreams that her daughters going to grow up to sleep alone.

If she had to live it all over again you know she wouldnâ€™t change anything for the world.